


Building Walls, Breaking Falls

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Domestic Bliss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: S04e01 Green Arrow, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, In places??, Negative towards Team Arrow, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 04, fluffy??, i tried to write fluff okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: Prompt on Tumblr: Oliver's headspace with PTSD in season 4. What if he didn't suit up again after coming back due to all the backlash he got from his friends?“I don’t want to be the Green Arrow anymore,” the archer whispered that night as they rested in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, at the same time Felicity rushed out, “I don’t think you should be the Green Arrow anymore.”There was a brief pause. Oliver stared at Felicity, and she gazed surprisedly back at him.“Oh,” she breathed.“I want to get better,” he murmured, “Mentally, that is. Our months away from Starling helped with my depression and… anxiety, but…”“Coming back has made everything worse,” Felicity finished.





	Building Walls, Breaking Falls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callistawolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/gifts), [NoDecaff4Me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoDecaff4Me/gifts), [bushlaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/gifts), [latinasmoak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/latinasmoak/gifts).



> Technically a 4x01 AU. I wanted to try writing in Felicity’s POV about Oliver’s PTSD for once since I’ve never written a loved one’s POV on their partner’s mental illnesses.
> 
> This is rather Olicity centric. This includes some not very nice Diggle and Laurel and some negative comments towards them because of their behaviour towards Oliver, so don’t read if you’re not prepared to deal with that. This somehow made it to 9k words, which I was shocked by. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Gifted to Calli, Muriel, Ale and Marian because they helped me through some rough times somewhat recently)

Felicity had suspected that Oliver was on a teetering edge of mental health the moment they had returned to Star City. His reluctance to travel back to the place he had once called home, to the place he had once put his life on the line for to save every night of every week, should have tipped her off in the first place. She could tell by his expression when Thea and Laurel arrived at their house in Ivy Town that he thought the darkness was springing out to drag him back down into it. And after all the work they had achieved together, all of the mending and healing they had started, it anguished Felicity to see it all fade into nothing. As if it had never happened.

She became aware of his mental struggles only a few days after they left Star City together, driving off into the sunset in a convertible sports car like some awful cliche in a book or film. He had woken up in the middle of the night screaming like he was being tortured, flinching as if every single one of her touches was going to hurt him, and sobbing into his pillow until he fell into an exhausted slumber and Felicity was finally able to pull him into her arms to comfort him without risking having her neck snapped.

 _PTSD_ , he admitted to her the next morning as he solemnly flipped pancakes for her, telling her everything the psychologist had said when he had been analysed by an ARGUS official, only six months ago. _Acute social anxiety. Hyper-vigilance, severe paranoia, and a disturbing history of flashbacks, night terrors and panic attacks. Suspected control, anger, personality and self-esteem issues. Suspected depression._

Eight years of post traumatic stress wasn’t something you could cure by taking a vacation for a few months with the love of your life.

Oliver didn’t want to go to therapy of any kind; he especially didn’t like the thought of confessing everything that had happened to him on the island, in Hong Kong, in Moscow and in Nanda Parbat, to a specialist ARGUS therapist (that Waller had forced him to see once in Hong Kong and he had sworn to himself never again) when Felicity brought up the idea. He did, however, consent to having her help him. She spent weeks researching online, and finally, things seemed to work out.

If he had a flashback, he would tell her about it. If he had a panic attack, he would call her. If he had a nightmare, he would speak to her about what happened in it. And it seemed to work, at first. He seemed happier, more content, more rested, when the weight was lifted off of his chest by telling Felicity his life story, about his past experiences. By the end of the first month, Felicity knew everything about his first and second years on Lian Yu. They were beginning to work through what had happened with Waller and ARGUS in Hong Kong. He could talk to her about how he received all of his scars, and didn’t cower away from her hands when she touched them.

Then Oliver awoke one night screeching bloody murder in their holiday apartment in Positano before falling back into his awful Al-Sahim conditioning for a brief, terrifying minute, and after he had snapped out of it, he cried for two hours into her shoulder and refused to eat or sleep for four days.

Gradually, he improved. The flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks became less frequent, and he could sleep through the night, without having night terrors, for four to five nights per week. He didn’t flinch when a car backfired, and he could lie on his front comfortably without thinking somebody was going to attack his exposed back.

After they settled in Ivy Town, he seemed to immediately slip into domesticity without any trouble at all. The flashbacks and panic attacks stopped, or only happened maybe once a fortnight, and the nightmares would shake him awake but he could fall back asleep, wrapped around Felicity, within minutes. He smiled, he laughed, he teased, he joked. He made conversation with their neighbours and began cooking to help with any stress.

He was happier than Felicity had ever seen him before, and knowing she was the cause of that, that she helped him reach that point, made her feel immensely proud of both of them.

Then that shattered into pieces.

“We need the Arrow,” Laurel had said when coming to their house one late night, with Thea by her side as they practically pleaded for the couple to come back with them to fight for the city.

Felicity was concerned that Oliver was going to have a mental breakdown there and then, the way his shoulders tightened and his breathing stuttered. He stood swiftly, almost running away from them, and when he turned towards them and told them, in a carefully controlled voice, that the Arrow was dead, her heart broke a little more.

Here was a man who had given so much, sacrificed so much, without asking and without receiving anything in return except betrayal, criticism and undeserved anger, who had finally escaped a life of darkness, pain and heartbreak. And now, he was being dragged back into that life kicking and screaming before her very eyes. Dammit, she couldn’t do anything to stop it; she knew Star City and the team needed Oliver, she knew that they desperately needed his skills, leadership and experience to fight the Ghosts and the new threats arising in the city. She knew deep down that they had to go back, but Oliver had barely had a few months vacation, where he was happy. Now, he was being pulled away from that.

Outwardly, Oliver seemed to be fine. Maybe he appeared disappointed and tired, longing to return to their happy domestic life in Ivy Town, but he wasn’t curled up in the fetal position on the floor crying. It was more the dead look in his eyes that tipped Felicity off that the return to Star City wasn’t doing Oliver any good.

Perhaps the relentless slaughter from both Diggle and Laurel was part of it. Diggle was still acting hostile and unforgiving towards Oliver for what he had done as Al-Sahim to Lyla and baby Sara, while Laurel was reasonably frosty due to her recent discovery of Oliver handing over the League of Assassins to Malcolm, the man who had orchestrated her sister’s death. Thea, the adorable sweet little puppy she was, was always trying to defuse the bomb, acting cheerful and happily including Oliver in all of their missions. She was content to let her brother take the lead and commented to the others that really, he had been doing this for a long time, he had experience to offer and they needed him.

Oliver, bless his heart, was prepared to let the rest of the team vent at him. He took their awful quips, insults and rude comments without complaint, only occasionally flinching at their words when they spitefully brought up his brief time working with the League. The archer always tried to remain stoic and cold, his shoulders slumped and his head lowered in shame whenever their words bit into him like razors.

And that was due to the fact, Felicity had discovered during their time away, that Oliver could only really remember half of what had happened during those weeks he had been property of the League. She meant property in every sense of the word - the brand on his back, claiming him as the possession of Ra’s Al Ghul, like he was merely cattle, his weight and muscle loss, and the numerous other new scars, told her everything she needed to know about what he had gone through in Nanda Parbat. Oliver had even told her that he couldn’t properly recall what had gone on with Lyla and baby Sara; he had been so utterly under the influence of the drugs the League had forced on him, in the scraps of food and sips of water he was awarded for compliance, that the only time he had ever truly been himself was when Malcolm and Maseo had detoxed him.

During the first week they were back in Star City, on the third night, curled up on their couch because the moving company still hadn’t delivered their bed yet (it had apparently got lost in Ohio?), Oliver woke up at three am shaking uncontrollably with tears in his eyes. The nightmares had returned. That morning, when he was exhaustedly cooking bacon and eggs, a pan placed a little too carelessly on the counter fell off and clattered to the floor when Oliver leant over to kiss Felicity good morning. The next thing she knew, she was tackled to the floor with her boyfriend crouched protectively over her, his haunted, panicked eyes scaring the life out of her.

“I think we need to take a break,” she told him quietly. “Leave the city for a while. You know, take a vacation, get some rest.”

“We just got back,” Oliver raised his eyebrows. “We can’t take a break now.”

She didn’t want to tell him that she was concerned he was going to tear at the seams any day now.

“Please just take it easy on him for the next few days,” she pleaded Diggle and Laurel once Oliver left on his own patrol with Thea, when Diggle and Laurel refused to join them because in their words the archer was ‘too controlling’ and ‘not the boss of them, not anymore’.

“We’ll see,” Diggle said.

“I’m worried about him,” she attempted to get through to him. “Ever since we came back… he’s not coping well.”

“It was your choice to come back,” Diggle replied. “You didn’t have to.” He turned to stride away from her, turning his back on her, just like he did with Oliver.

Last chance. “Please, John.”

He hesitated visibly, before responding. “For you. Not for him, for you.”

Now, it was the next day. The team, once again, were fighting. It was actually one of their worse sessions of verbal assault on each other Felicity had witnessed since her and Oliver’s return to Star City, and considering the tension between them, that was saying something. She knew instantly that she needed to intercede the moment Oliver backed down and lowered his head.

It was when Laurel spat out, “I’m going to run a patrol, because clearly, you’re too worried about your cooking, domesticity and life in the suburbs to care about this city going to crap,” and Diggle sneered, “Because some of us have families we love and want to protect from the evils in this city,”, causing a tremor to run through her boyfriend, that looked like the beginning of a panic attack, that Felicity snapped.

“Okay, that is enough!” she shouted, rising from her chair swiftly and striding over to stand in front of Oliver protectively. “I’m sick and tired of listening to you all verbally attacking Oliver and watching him not defend himself because he thinks he deserves it, because he doesn’t.” She aimed this specifically at her boyfriend, firmly, and he managed a small sheepish smile. She saw the look in his eyes and knew that she was going to have to do major damage control later on with cuddling, movie and ice cream comfort. “To be honest, I’m sick and tired of your behaviour towards him period.”

“Of course, you’d be on his side,” Laurel hissed. “You’re his girlfriend, you -”

If anything, Felicity’s fury reared its head even more, and she took a threatening step towards where Laurel and Diggle were standing side by side defensively. “Yes, I may be his girlfriend, but I’m also a decent human being who recognises you are basically mercilessly slating a man who yes, has made mistakes in the past, but is trying to make up for them now.”

“If you’re telling me you think he can make up for kidnapping my wife and endangering my child -”

“He left us, he left this city in shambles and handed leadership over the biggest threat we have ever faced to a monster and he didn’t even care -

Thea, who had been watching the exchange between them like an interesting tennis match, finally raised her voice and interrupted, but when she spoke, it was quietly; “Guys, stop. I… I think Felicity has a point.”

Silence fell for a moment. Laurel rounded on Thea and glared at her, while Diggle sent her a disapproving look; in response, Thea just shrugged and turned back to Felicity, blinking at the sight of the petite blonde almost guarding her older brother. But after a few seconds, Diggle and Laurel seemed to deflate and they both nodded begrudgingly, agreeing to listen, and Felicity exhaled in relief.

Wheeling around to face her boyfriend, she ran her hands down Oliver’s exposed arms and reached up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his mouth, murmuring, “Go and have a shower and get changed, okay?”

“Hmm,” he replied, brushing their lips again before leaning his forehead on hers and closing his eyes tiredly. “Okay.”

She watched as he departed into the locker room where the showers were located, and waited until the door was shut behind him before she turned on the other members of Team Arrow, who had been watching their exchange with narrowed eyes. Laurel and Diggle immediately crossed their arms defensively and shuffled closer together when Felicity marched to approach, while Thea sat down on a chair and leant back, fiddling with her hands.

“I understand if you’re angry,” she told them. “I understand if you’re not happy with him, if you don’t want to talk to him or be friends with him anymore, but that does not mean you get to put him down every chance you get. He’s teetering on the edge of mental health as it is, and it’s been so much worse since we came back to Star City -”

“You didn’t have to come back -” Laurel grumbled.

“No, no, we did,” Felicity cut in forcefully, jabbing a single finger at the Black Canary. “You’re forgetting that it was you and Thea that came to us, you and Thea that dragged us back here because you wanted, needed, our help, and now you’re acting like you don’t want us here at all! So what, are Oliver and I only useful to you when we’re fighting terrorists and saving the city?”

“It’s not you -”

“No, it’s not me,” Felicity fumed. “It’s Oliver, isn’t it? You’re furious at him for things that happened months ago, when really you should be letting it go and appreciating the fact that he gave up his happiness to come back here and help you. Because he was happy, with me in Ivy Town, okay? You need to know that. You need to know that he was happy, he didn’t have nightmares, he didn’t brood, he was in a good place, and since we’ve come back here to Star City, that’s gone. He’s here for you, you can at least act grateful!”

“Oh, and we should be grateful for him kidnapping my family and handing the League over to Merlyn?” Dig hissed. “I don’t understand how you forgave him so easily, Felicity!”

Laurel continued savagely, “He left and joined the League willingly, probably had a grand old time there training to become the leader, being treated like an assassin celebrity and then he threatened Lyla and Sara, nearly got us all killed, locked us in a chamber with poisonous gas and then had the nerve to leave Starling City for his own happily ever after while we were left to clean up after him!”

Felicity reached forwards and slapped Laurel around the face. The other woman looked shocked, Diggle even more so, and Thea clapped for a few seconds before a vicious glower from Diggle shut her down, bowing her head guiltily.

“Don’t presume to know what he went through,” Felicity said in a lethally quiet voice. “You have no idea what he went through. If you knew, you would definitely not be saying those things.”

“Then tell us, Felicity,” Dig scowled. “Tell us another one of his sob stories. See if we care. It’s not gonna be that easy for us to be won over and forgive him.”

Laurel hissed, “He was a heartless bastard before the island, he was a heartless bastard after and he’s still one now.”

“Have you seen him shirtless since he’s been back?”

Diggle and Laurel visibly startled at the abrupt question, and Diggle frowned, his crossed arms tightening. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with the fact that the League tortured him and he now has a dozen new scars and they burnt him with a branding iron to mark him as their property,” Felicity told him flatly. “The brand is a severe trigger for him and he’s embarrassed by the scars. He knows he’d be slaughtered brutally by you guys if you saw them, which could cause him to have a panic attack. Which in his vulnerable state, you would tear him apart even more.”

Now, Diggle, Laurel and Thea looked pale.

“He was tortured there?” Laurel said tentatively.

Felicity turned to Diggle. “You saw what Ra’s and the League did to Malcolm when he was there.” Diggle nodded hesitantly. “Oliver said that would have been a relief from what they put him through.” If possible, Diggle paled even further. “He lost two stone of weight there because they only gave him enough food and water for him to survive, and that was all drugged so he wasn’t aware of what was going on or what brainwashing he was being put through. He lost so much muscle mass he could only manage two rungs on the salmon ladder before falling.”

“Felicity -”

“He can’t take long showers or any type of bath, or go swimming, because when he was there they sleep-deprived him by throwing buckets of cold water over him until he was drenched. He got acute pneumonia that he still had, by the way, when we left Starling City for our ‘happily ever after’, and he had to go to hospital during our third week.” They couldn’t meet her eyes, looking horrified. “The brand and some of his cuts became infected because they weren’t treated, which added to his illness and made him worse so he lost even more weight. He starved himself because he couldn't keep the food down and he could barely get an hour’s sleep every night without waking up screaming and thinking he was back trapped in Nanda Parbat. By the end of our first month together, I was more worried about whether or not he was going to survive the day rather than the normal things a girlfriend should be worried about.”

She leant forwards. “So don’t you dare, _don’t you fucking dare_ , call him a heartless bastard. You've lost Oliver, and if you dare try and hurt him any more than you already have, you’ll lose me too. And by losing me, you lose your hacker, your tech, your comms, info and resources.” She raised her head. “You probably wouldn’t survive the week.”

“Look, Felicity, we’ll try to be nicer, alright?” Diggle said, defensive and ashamed and frustrated all at the same time. “It’s just difficult for us to be around him.”

“It’s difficult for me to be around you,” she hissed in response, “When all the three of you are doing is emotionally torturing my partner. And frankly, guys, I don’t trust the three of you have to have Oliver’s back when he’s out in the field because of your recent behaviour towards him.”

“We’ll have his back, Felicity,” Laurel said.

“Considering that you’re one of the people who were so desperate to get him back in the hood and back onto the streets fighting, I seriously hope that’s true.”

Two days later, Diggle made the choice to back up Thea and Laurel who were fighting a dozen Ghosts together rather than back up Oliver, who was fighting his own dozen alone. Felicity’s heart shattered for him as he returned to her, battered and bruised, with a bullet in his calf, a sprained wrist and a concussion. He wasn’t just injured physically, however. She’d never seen him look so fractured before. She patched him up in frigid silence with the only noise being the small, almost inaudible whimpers her boyfriend made when she accidentally twinged his wrist a little harshly and while digging the bullet out of his leg. The rest of the team nervously hovered a few metres away, obviously feeling helpless, but not feeling as helpless as Felicity was in that moment.

She had let this hostility towards him go on too long, and now Oliver was paying the price for it.

Felicity told him to go wait in the car and when he protested, she shot him a very pointed look and once again asked him to go wait in the car, this time with more amplitude. He brushed a kiss over her temple before limping out of their makeshift lair, leaving Felicity alone with Diggle, Laurel and Thea, who now all looked they would rather be anywhere else but here, confronted by her.

“Oliver and I come as a package deal,” she said quietly. “You can’t have one of us without the other. And after tonight, you might not have either of us.”

“I’m sorry, Felicity,” Diggle tried.

“He could have died tonight,” she told them. “You do realise that, right? You could have found him dead in that alley tonight.” She wheeled away from them. “Sorry’s not enough.”

Oliver cried himself to sleep in her arms that night. The following morning, he said he was too tired and in too much pain to get up, and lay in bed until midday, at which point he got up only to cook dinner before going back to bed again. Felicity watched helplessly; it looked an awful lot to her like Oliver’s depression was rearing its head again.

“I don’t want to be the Green Arrow anymore,” the archer whispered that night as they rested in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, at the same time Felicity rushed out, “I don’t think you should be the Green Arrow anymore.”

There was a brief pause. Oliver stared at Felicity, and she gazed surprisedly back at him.

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathed.

“I want to get better,” he murmured, “Mentally, that is. Our months away from Starling helped with my depression and… anxiety, but…”

“Coming back has made everything worse,” Felicity finished.

He nodded, exhaling tiredly.

“Huh, so I guess this is going to be an easier decision for us both than I thought,” the blonde mused, her voice muffled as she buried her face into his bare chest, dotting an affectionate kiss onto the archer’s Bratva tattoo.

“Just because I’m quitting doesn’t mean you have to,” he quickly said. “I - I just can’t handle it mentally. The team needs you, you shouldn’t leave if you don’t -”

“You really think I want to spend my time around a group of people who forced you to come back, massively triggering your PTSD, and are now driving you to quit again?” Felicity raised an eyebrow. “I warned them, sweetheart. I told them if they hurt you anymore, they wouldn’t just lose you, they would lose me too. They need to understand the gravity of this situation and that what they’ve done is wrong.”

“They need you.” Oliver’s voice was quiet and small, a sigh escaping his lips. “And as much as you might hate to admit it, you need _them_. Working with the team gives you purpose. I can’t give you that, Felicity. I’m not enough.”

“Don’t say that,” Felicity protested, horrified. “That’s not true.”

“I’m happy for you to continue on with the team, if that’s what you want,” the archer continued. “You’re your own person, honey. I’ve made my own decision to step back, but only you can decide whether or not you want to keep going.”

She decided to keep going. It pained Felicity to acknowledge it, but working with Team Arrow gave her a sense of purpose; saving people, making the residents’ of Starling’s (excuse her, Star City) lives better, and cleaning the streets up gave her motivation in a way that living a life of domestic bliss with Oliver had not. Of course, she was ever so fond of that life with Oliver. She wouldn’t give that up for the world. Seeing his wide, happy smile every morning and the way he practically skipped around the kitchen making omelettes due to no longer having the weight of thousands of lives and a city resting on his shoulders, Felicity couldn’t bring herself to even suggest Oliver give that up. Him being content was one of the most important things in the world for her.

But there was nothing to say that she couldn’t continue working with the team whilst Oliver carried on living in perfect domesticity. Their lives from Ivy Town could transfer to Star City easily. Oliver could resume his self-therapy, going on long runs through the park, cooking, baking and going to farmer’s markets. All it would mean was Felicity would, instead of working in her home office in their house, go to work at the Palmer Tech building every day and then work the nights with the team.

Diggle, Laurel and Thea weren’t happy with Oliver’s decision though.

She told them when they met up at base one night, preparing for a patrol. Oliver was absent, only because he knew his presence would cause all of them to hit off. He didn’t fancy being slandered. Instead, he was back at the Loft baking chocolate chip muffins for Lance, as he was trying to improve his relationship with the police captain, since they hadn’t exactly left it in a very good place when the archer drove off into the sunset six months ago.

“So Ollie’s abandoning us,” Thea said, upset. “Again?”

“He’s not abandoning you, Thea,” Felicity sighed. “He’s decided that his mental health needs to take priority to this. He’s stepping back from being a vigilante so he can focus on getting better. He hasn’t been alright in a long, long time - almost eight years now - and our time away allowed that healing process start. Jumping back into the hood would - well, it has - just caused him to slip back into that dark place. This is for the best.”

“There’s something else you’re not telling us,” Diggle narrowed his eyes.

“Yes,” Felicity pursed her lips. “You three have made Oliver’s depression worse. He’s struggling at the moment because of how you’ve been treating him since he’s been back. He doesn’t want to work with you anymore, and to be honest, I think he’s made the right decision.”

Laurel scoffed, glancing away. “Everything we’ve said to him has been true.”

“Everything you’ve said to him,” Felicity gritted out, trying to keep her anger under control, “Has been unspeakably cruel and bitter. Yes, Oliver made mistakes. But we all do. I don’t find Oliver bringing up all your worst mistakes in order to crush you emotionally. Even looking at you guys, knowing what you’ve said and done to him… it makes me feel physically sick.”

Thea looked scared, and Felicity was starkly reminded of the terrified young girl she’d seen on TV, marched through crowds of reporters after being arrested, all those years ago. “Are you leaving too?”

She shook her head, and the three of them instantly relaxed in relief. “No. I thought about it a lot, but… You still have me. For now.”

“And what does Oliver think of you staying on?”

“He encouraged me to, actually,” Felicity responded flatly, shooting a glower Diggle’s way, which caused him to shrink in his skin. “But you should all know - unless Oliver’s still allowed down here accompanying me, despite not being an active member of the team, I’ll be throwing the towel in too.”

“What should we do about the Green Arrow?” Laurel questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“He announced himself as a guardian of this city only a week ago. He can’t up and vanish after seven days. The public is going to want to know what’s happened to him, and quitting because he can’t handle the mental pressure isn’t an adequate answer.”

“That’s your issue to deal with,” Felicity replied.

“If you’re a part of this team, you should be dealing with it as well,” Diggle protested, his tone aggressive and unhappy.

“I’m not one of the people who provoked his PTSD so much that he has to drop out for the sake of his mental well-being,” Felicity responded icily. “So no, I won’t be dealing with it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, surveying them. “We going to get on with this patrol, or what?”

She returned home to the Loft near 2 am that night, exhausted. It had been so strange to be on the comms for the team but not hear Oliver talking back to her. Knowing she’d been sitting at her station, directing the team without Oliver there, had been somewhat uncomfortable. The Loft was dark, the lights turned off. The heavenly smell of muffins hit her and Felicity followed the scent, her stomach rumbling.

She’d just peeled the case off one of the baked goods when she felt arms wrap tightly around her waist. Jumping in place, Felicity dropped the muffin in alarm, but quickly calmed down once she felt her boyfriend’s stubble scratching at her neck as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Oliver murmured, smiling. “How are you?”

“So tired,” she groaned. “And so hungry.”

“I made you pizza.” Oliver kissed her neck and snuck past her to open the open, which Felicity only just noticed was on low heat. He grinned as he donned gloves to pull out a tray with two large slices of homemade Hawaiian pizza.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, hopping into one of their bar stools and immediately grabbing at a slice. “Why haven’t I married you yet?”

Oliver froze, imitating a deer in the headlights. That expression disappeared in under a second though, transforming into fond affection as he nuzzled into her hair and mumbled, “I love you too.”

“Is this going to be a daily thing?” Felicity asked around her mouthful of delicious, incredible pizza. “Coming home each night to you having cooked for me?”

“It can be if you want it to be,” her boyfriend promised. He began to look worried. “How was it? How did the team react to… you know.”

“They whined about it a lot,” she rolled her eyes. Finishing off a slice, she made grabby hands for a napkin, that Oliver passed over with a faint smile. “They’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell Lance…”

“I’ll tell Lance,” she cut in. “You don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Maybe Lance will take it better if you give him the muffins?” Oliver said hopefully.

“Maybe, sweetheart.” She stuffed the rest of the second slice in her mouth and swallowed. “Come on, I want you in my bed.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow, smirking.

“Not for sex,” she added quickly. “I’m too tired for that. You’re too tired for that.”

“Am I?”

“It’s 2 am.”

“You won’t have to do anything,” he whispered. Felicity shuddered, eyes slipping shut as ripples of arousal swept through her body due to the archer nipping at the sensitive spots on her neck, near her collarbone. “I’ll do all the work, baby.”

“Mmmhmm.” She turned around and slowly began backing towards the staircase, fixing an intense gaze into the archer. “How many orgasms?”

His eyes were dark and heated. “How many do you want?”

“Two.”

“I’ll raise you one and say three.”

“And you want nothing in return?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve got to be the most generous man on the planet.”

He shrugged, taking another firm step forwards and his voice coming out husky as he replied, “I try.”

“Hmm.” Felicity smiled. “You’re trying to distract me from remembering that leaflet for PTSD sufferers that said we should only use our bed for sleeping in and not for sex, aren’t you?”

Oliver’s face fell and his shoulder slumped in disappointment. “Dammit,” he muttered.

One of the leaflets Felicity had picked up after going to one of Ivy Town’s therapists for advice about Oliver’s persistent nightmares had suggested the idea. The leaflet had said your sleeping space, including your bedroom and your actual bed, should only be used for sleeping and not for any other activities, particularly energetic ones. Felicity had read between the lines; in order to reduce Oliver’s nightmares, they’d needed to stop having sex in the bed they slept in each night. It usually wasn’t a problem, because the Loft had two spare bedrooms, but one of them was Thea’s, and the other one that they’d usually use was currently filled with boxes of all their stuff from Ivy Town.

“Nice try, Oliver,” she laughed.

“So close,” he mumbled, crestfallen.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” she grinned, holding her hand out. “To sleep.”

“Maybe we can be exempt from the rule for tonight?” he suggested, entwining his fingers with hers, but his voice already sounded defeated. “My depression’s been a lot better today, you know.”

“Nope. No excuses.”

“And to think, I was offering you three free orgasms.”

“Sleep, Oliver. It’s vital to the mental healing process. Sleep.”

Oliver woke her up the next morning with those three orgasms he owed her, two in the shower and one up against the wall outside their bedroom. He made her French toast for breakfast and then, it was time for Felicity to head to work. Well - not to work exactly. She needed to perform some server maintenance down in the Arrow cave, as Laurel and Diggle had pretty much wrecked the set-up after five months of not knowing how to service it properly. However, the blonde would need somebody to help her with all the heavy lifting, as she was planning on rearranging the set-up to optimise its function.

The archer didn’t seem so willing to be her assistant, however. “I don’t think John and Laurel will like me down there,” he said. His wary eyes, matches with his concerned expression and anxious hand tick, informed Felicity that he was truly troubled by this idea.

“They’ll like you down there if they want me to stay on the team,” Felicity replied, offering Oliver his favourite navy pea coat. “I promise you, it’ll be okay, honey. I doubt any of the team will be down there that early anyway.”

Turned out that all of the team were down there. Diggle and Laurel were in the middle of a hand-to-hand combat training session, whilst Thea was practising her archery. As Felicity and Oliver walked in, hands linked, all three of them paused in their activities to stare. The blonde was satisfied to see that none of them were glaring, simply gazing at Oliver with mild interest. Avoiding eye contact with any of them, the archer shifted slightly behind Felicity and kept his gaze lowered as they strode towards the computer set-up.

She put him to work quickly, hoping that having his mind occupied by having to remember which wires she handed him at what times would distract him from the team’s eyes lasering in on his back. Oliver settled in swiftly, the easy, teasing banter helping him relax. He was a shockingly efficient assistant to her, listening to Felicity intently and obeying her every order as rapidly as possible.

By the time they finished, Oliver was covered in grease and sweat, whilst Felicity was cleaner, having had her boyfriend do most of the dirty work due to her needing to be presentable later for work. He stood, wiping his furrowed brow. “Done?”

“That’s it, for now,” Felicity confirmed with a smile. “Thank you for helping me. You did a wonderful job.”

“Anything for my beautiful partner,” he responded, preening under her praise.

“I have to head up to work,” she sighed. “Will you be okay to get home?”

“You need to keep the Porsche here, don’t you?”

“To come home tonight, yes.”

“I thought I could take the Ducati home.”

His treasured Ducati motorbike, which he’d been using for Arrow work for the last three years, had swappable licence plates and had been sitting in the garage of the cave for the last five months. Oliver had sorely missed the bike during their road trip, and had shown immense excitement at the prospect of bringing it home. “Sure! That sounds like a great idea!”

Oliver beamed happily, brushing his hands off and helping her stand, but before he could even take a step towards the garage, Diggle spoke up, his voice rough and harsh, “The Ducati belongs to Thea now.”

Felicity blinked. “Uhh, I’m actually pretty sure that the bike belongs to Oliver. And has done for… ten?” she glanced over at the archer for confirmation.

“Eleven,” Oliver corrected softly.

“ - Eleven years, now.”

“Well, he used the bike for Arrow duties,” Laurel said snidely. “So the bike belongs to the team, not him.”

Felicity paused, and swept her eyes over the group. “What happened to us, guys?” she asked sadly.

Thea wandered over, lowering her bow. “What do you mean?”

“We all used to be friends,” Felicity said, switching her gaze between them all. Oliver had withdrawn into himself, fiddling with his hands anxiously, whilst Diggle was glaring at the ground, Laurel was glaring at her, and Thea looked confused. “We all used to be to best friends, we used to rely on each other for everything. And now… now we all hate each other. Because of what Ra’s and the League did to us.”

“I think you mean what Oliver did to us,” Diggle sniped.

“Oliver only did to you what he did because of the control Ra’s had over him,” Felicity snapped back. She sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “We shouldn’t be fighting. Friends forgive one another for their mistakes. None of this would be happening if you guys weren’t as stubborn as Oliver often is.”

“Thanks, hun,” Oliver said quietly, but in a faintly sarcastic tone.

“You’re welcome,” she said in response, winking at him. “Look, guys, if you really can’t bring yourselves to forgive Oliver and get over this petty, cruel behaviour… Oliver and I will temporarily move to Central City. At least I know that Team Flash will accept both of us fully.”

Thea looked panicked. “Please don’t leave again.”

“It won’t be forever, Thea,” Felicity reassured her. “But your brother is suffering here, and I can’t stand it if continuing to live here causes his depression to reach such a high that he’s considering slitting his wrists again.”

A change swept over the group. Oliver took a seat just behind Felicity, hiding his face in her back as he tightly gripped both her hands for comfort. Diggle, Laurel and Thea all just appeared stunned.

“That didn’t happen,” Diggle said, shaking his head. “That can’t have happened.”

“Now do you understand why I asked you to stop your dreadful behaviour towards him?” Felicity questioned downheartedly. “Now do you understand why he has to stop being the Green Arrow?”

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Laurel spluttered, still appearing shocked and appalled by the revelation. “I - we had no idea it was that bad.”

“It still is,” Oliver answered, his voice small and distressed, his agitation evident by the trembling of his hands and clenched shoulders. Felicity took a step sideways and backwards, letting the archer come forwards. She would take a step back now and watch the interaction. This was something the rest of the team needed to hear, and a conversation that needed to happen. “Sometimes, it still is. Coming back just - it just made everything so much worse. Felicity helps a lot but I just - I needed to get out. Ra’s broke me. He shattered that fundamental part of me that gives me the strength to carry on fighting when mentally I can’t cope and... I need all of this chaos and disorder to stop so I can sort out the commotion in my own personal life.”

Thea flew forwards and threw herself at her big brother, hugging him tightly. Felicity watched nervously for any sign of Oliver flinching and pulling away, but the archer seemed comfortable, even wrapping his arms back around his sister. “I’m so sorry, Ollie!”

“Hey, Speedy, it’s okay,” he murmured, embracing her tightly. “I just need the break before I can even start to think about putting the hood back on. I’m not saying I won’t come back to the team ever again, I’m just saying… not now. Maybe not at all this year. I need to heal before I get back out into the field.”

“Then you should take the time to heal,” Diggle finally spoke up. His voice was sincere, despite his blank expression. “And take as long as you need. The Green Arrow will always be waiting for you to come back when you want to.”

Oliver looked surprised, but suspicious of what Diggle was suggesting. Even Felicity was a little shocked of what their longtime partner was implying - Diggle had presented only resentment towards the archer over the last couple of weeks. Diggle reaching out like this was a massive step in his and Oliver’s rekindling of friendship. “You mean… there’s a space for me on the team if I decide to come back?”

“Yeah, man,” Diggle sighed. “There’ll always be a space on the team for you.”

So relieved he was close to tears, Oliver whispered, “I thought you hated me.” His eyes flicked downwards. “I thought you still hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Diggle argued. “You lost my trust, and you lost my respect, but I could never hate you, Oliver.”

The archer turned to Laurel, agitated. “Laurel?”

Her glare was fierce, but it had softened somewhat compared to her glower from before. “You can take your Ducati,” she grumbled, snatching up an Eskrima stick from the weapons table and stalking back off to the mats.

“I think that’s Laurel speak for ‘we’re good’,” Thea translated, kissing him on the cheek.

“And we’re good?” Oliver asked worriedly, turning to his sister. “I’m not abandoning you, Thea. At least, that’s not my intention. I love you.”

“I know you do,” she reassured gently. “And I understand you’ve got to do this for yourself. You dedicated nearly four years of your life to this city and neglected yourself because of that. You deserve to take some time off to recover if you need to, Ollie. I’ll be here to support you all the way.” She turned to Felicity and pleaded, a twinkle in her eyes, “Try and keep this dolt out of trouble for me?”

“Always do,” she replied, smiling. “Don’t always succeed, but I’ll do my best.”

“You two act as if I’m attracted to danger,” Oliver muttered.

“You are,” both women chorused.

The archer rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath about both his girls always teasing him. Standing, he pressed a kiss to his sister’s cheek and then gave Felicity a gentle peck on the lips, murmuring that he would see her later. Diggle, to everybody’s shock, approached Oliver with his hand held out warily, his eyes slightly narrowed as they flitted over the man who he regarded as a brother. Felicity could sense the palpable emotion, most significantly the immense relief, being radiated from Oliver as he shook Diggle’s hand, smiling.

“If you want,” Diggle said hesitantly, “I can talk to Lyla about arranging an ARGUS therapist for you to see. Both she and I see one of their PTSD-specialist therapists, a very nice woman called Dr Harlton. Getting professional aid can help a lot.”

Oliver nodded, but shifted nervously on his feet. “Um, I’d have to think about it,” he replied quietly. “I - I’ve had unpleasant experiences with ARGUS doctors in the past.”

“So you’re understandably cautious,” Diggle discerned. “Which doctor was it?”

The archer swallowed. “Dr Holburn.”

If possible, Diggle looked more enraged than Felicity had ever seen him. “Waller stuck you with that pretentious son of a bitch? God, no wonder you’ve never wanted to go to therapy again.”

“I think Waller assigned him to me on purpose,” Oliver ran a hand through his hair, fingers ticking at his side in a clear sign of anxiety. “She didn’t like me very much. She only cared about how useful I was to her as an asset. I think she was deliberately trying to - well…”

“Drive you insane?” Diggle finished. “Sounds just like her.” He turned to pick up one of the Eskrima sticks, only noticing Felicity was still present in the room then. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“Hmm?” She dragged her gaze away from Oliver, where she’d been watching him interact with Diggle worriedly. “Oh! Yes. Sorry. I have to go.” Turning back to her boyfriend, she questioned, “You’ll be okay?”, gnawing on her bottom lip in concern. She didn’t exactly want to leave the archer alone with the team down here, not after what they’d put him through recently. Trusting them with the city was one thing; trusting them with her boyfriend in his vulnerable state was something else entirely.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “If… if it’s okay with John, Laurel and Thea, I might stick around for a few hours before I head home.”

He said this whilst shooting the team members apprehensive and heedful looks, as if unsure how his suggestion would go down. Laurel simply paused in her workout and huffed, not caring to comment on the matter, whilst Diggle shrugged indifferently. Thea nodded excitedly, picking up her bow and tugging at her brother’s hand to drag him over to the short range.

“Come on, you can show and teach me how to do that speed-shooting thing. I can never get my arrows fired that fast.”

“Oh, well, it’s all about the technique,” Oliver commented, striding by his sister’s side as they slipped off together. “How long are you taking to draw your arrows to nocking point? We should start there.”

The two Queen siblings vanished around the corner, chatting. Oliver cast one last glance back towards Felicity before he disappeared, the gleam in his blue eyes and wide, open smile on his face causing her to break out in a grin as well.

“It’s good for him to have company,” Felicity remarked. “I think being at home with me all the time and constantly cooking and baking, with no other hobbies, was slowly driving him crazy.” She fished her phone out of her purse, unlocking it and offering it to her partner. “Can I have the cell number of that therapist?”

Taking it and tapping on the screen, Diggle informed her, “I’ll tell her to expect your call. He needs to see somebody. At least to get a prescription for antidepressants or something.”

“Didn’t think you’d be so invested in his mental health,” she muttered under her breath, reclaiming her phone and tucking it away.

“I wouldn’t wish suicidal thoughts on any of my greatest enemies, Felicity,” Diggle said solemnly. “Too many good soldiers are lost each year to suicide triggered by PTSD-related depression. Oliver may not be my favourite person right now, but I’m sure as hell not going to sit back and watch that boy kill himself.” His tone turned ever so slightly joking as he added, “I’ve invested too much in him over the years.”

Felicity ducked her head, smiling. There was no way Oliver and Diggle were going to be able to maintain this chilly behaviour around each other for another month. They both secretly cared far too much about each other. “I’ll see you later tonight, John.”

“Yeah. Have a good day at work.”

Later that day, as it was creeping into the evening, Felicity headed back to the Loft briefly, planning on changing into more comfortable clothes for sitting in on overwatch for the team’s patrol. Her day at work had been exhausting, mostly meetings with the heads of departments to arrange their annual goals, something that CEOs apparently needed to do.

She almost jumped a foot into the air when she walked in to see Oliver sitting on the couch in complete darkness. Knowing that sometimes turning the lights on could trigger him, the blonde cautiously approached the archer, sliding onto the cushions beside him. This didn’t look good. Oliver was sitting motionlessly, staring down dazedly at his hands, which were clenching into fists and then releasing every ten seconds or so.

“Oliver?” she asked softly. He didn’t startle at her voice, but that didn’t reassure her. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because you’re obviously not. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“John and Thea wanted to see my new scars,” Oliver told her, his voice quiet. To Felicity’s relief, he didn’t sound shaky at all, just simply mildly confused at what was going on. “So I showed them.”

Panic attack. He’d had a panic attack. Felicity rose and as quickly as possible, went to grab an ice pack from their freezer and wrap it in a dish cloth. Returning to her boyfriend, she pressed the ice into his grasp wrapping her fingers around his hands to force him to hold onto it tightly. Ice was one of the best ways they’d discovered to ground Oliver to reality and reduce flashbacks brought on by panic attacks.

“What can I do?” she whispered, brushing her knuckles against his cheek in a tender motion. The archer’s eyes slipped closed and he released a small, broken sound. “What do you need, Oliver?”

His breath stuttered, and his gaze flashed up to hers, locking. His blue eyes were intensely fierce, his mental anguish clear in stress lines of his expression. “ _You_ ,” he answered.

“You have me,” she replied immediately, realising instantly what he wanted her to do. She vaulted into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. With her encouragement, Oliver buried his face into Felicity’s neck, inhaling sharply. “I’m here, Oliver. I’m right here. You’re safe, and I’m with you.”

“I know,” he murmured, muffled as he spoke into her skin. The vibration of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she swallowed, eyes shuttering closed. “I’m always safe when I’m with you.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, scratching very lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. It was something that she knew he enjoyed, and he seemed to be liking it here, if Oliver’s pleased hum was anything to go by. “I’ll call Diggle and tell him I need to stay with you.” Her expression grew ferocious, anger coursing through her. “Because he triggered you. Again. My patience is wearing thin with the team, Oliver.”

“Not their fault,” he mumbled. “Should have told them no. They gave me the option to decline. Just a stupid decision on my part.”

“No, I told them your new scars and the brand are triggering for you,” she shook her head. “They shouldn’t have been asking about them at all.”

“I’m tired,” Oliver said, changing the subject abruptly. “Can we go to bed?”

She checked the time. It was nearing nine o’clock. “Yep, if you want to.”

“Uh huh.”

“You go on up, I need to grab the lavender bag and call Dig.”

The lavender bag was a soft cotton bag filled with lavender grains, that when warmed in the microwave provided a comforting weight and scent. They usually used it when Oliver was going to bed quite soon after a panic attack, as it helped him get to sleep.

Diggle didn’t pick up his cell phone, probably meaning he was suiting up and getting ready for the patrol. Neither did Thea nor Laurel. She left voicemails for all three of them and texted for good measure. They couldn’t complain she didn’t notify them - and Felicity suspected they wouldn’t get nasty with her either, because of the harsh words she used to reprimand them about triggering Oliver.

The archer hugged the lavender bag to his chest when she handed it over, stripping before clambering into bed beside him. “We should get a cat,” he mused, curling up and blinking at her. “Or a dog.”

“For you to snuggle with instead of the lavender bag?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t think cat or dog hair in the bed would be very hygienic.”

“I don’t think I’d care,” Oliver grumbled.

“Oh, getting sassy with me now, mister?” she arched an eyebrow, hopping under the covers and cuddling up beside him. “To be honest, I do think getting a pet would be a good idea. I don’t like the idea of you holed up in this Loft all alone by yourself. At least an animal would keep you company, and encourage you to go out on runs and to the park more.”

“So we can get a pet?”

“Ask me again tomorrow when I’m not so tired.”

“... that’s a yes.”

“That’s a ‘let Felicity sleep and then make a rational decision when she’s more alert’.”

He turned onto his side so he was facing her, his blue eyes wide and appearing so childlike and innocent in that instance that it honestly pained Felicity. “That’s not a no.”

“Go to sleep,” she groaned, thumping her forehead against his chest.

“ _Felicity_ ,” he whined, knowing that the special way he iterated her name turned her into jelly. That, paired with his husky tone, literally made her ovaries melt inside her body.

“Stop cheating by saying my name like that,” she whispered. “I’m not giving you my answer tonight. Sleep.”

“... will you say yes now if I offer you another free orgasm?”

“You’re ridiculous,” she sighed, turning away from him and huddling her back into his front so his giant arms were wrapped around her stomach. “But I still love you.”

“Good,” he said, kissing her behind the ear and finally settling down, relaxing. “I love you too.”

“Goodnight, Oliver,” she said insistently, but with a laugh in her voice.

“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) Hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos and comment!
> 
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar


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